Sex is a funny thing. Many Christians are raised with a general sense of sex’s worth. They know that premarital sex is wrong — that sex should only happen within the confines of marriage. But that’s all they may get. They may not dig into the details until they are forced to. Until they come face-to-face with sexual temptation.

Suddenly, they have to face questions like, “What is sex really worth?” “How far is too far?” “How will this affect my relationship with God?” Below is the testimony of Cassidy Whitmore where she shares her encounter with each of these questions. And how God met with her and fulfiller her every desire.

One Look Started It All

Could have been a look, could have been a come-hither smile, could have been desperation, but before I knew it, he and his friend were spending the night in the dorm room with my roommate and me.

Nothing happened. That night.

I’d been living the frat party lifestyle for nearly a year. Growing up in a strict, but genuinely Christian home, I knew better, but chose worse. In hindsight, the days run together from my freshman year through the first semester of my second year of college. My roommate’s drinking often rewarded her with men. Mine usually rewarded me with nausea and loud, obnoxious, regretful behavior.

But the night I met Andrew was magical. He was a football player, and it seemed my girlish, romantic dreams were coming true.

The relationship moved at breakneck speed. In the first week, we exceeded the physical boundaries I’d set while dating my last boyfriend. In six weeks, I’d given away almost every physical experience possible between a guy and girl. It was fun and pleasurable, but I’d expected to wait and enjoy these feelings with my husband.

The “Fireworks” Blinded Me to Sex’s Worth

Andrew seemed to love every cell of my body, and for the first time in my life, I passed mirrors and smiled. Sexy was a new feeling for me. Cute, yes. Pretty, even, at times. But sexy, rarely…if ever.

Maybe that was why I gave so much of myself to him. Or maybe it was because I felt he deserved what I gave.

We spent most of our time with four other couples. We were the only pair not sleeping together, albeit only technically. On Saturday nights, everyone would head off to bed together — except Andrew and me. And I could sense his frustration.

In passionate moments, he’d whisper, “Come on, baby. I love you.” I found that hard to believe since we’d been dating only a few weeks; but in those moments, it was hard to hold back and remember that I meant to give my virginity only to my future husband. And the condom that often lay beside the bed added its own degree of pressure.

My Sex Education Devalued Sex

It wasn’t until college that I met girls who’d actually had sex. Until I was 16, I didn’t even know that there was anything between kissing and sex. Keeping my virginity until marriage was the only option. It was what my parents taught, my preacher preached and my childhood friends believed.

My freshman year, however, I was introduced to new terms by girls who were apparently experts in the field. Graphic descriptions of sexual acts and anatomical parts found their way into conversations. I thought it was good to be educated, but I didn’t realize this “education” ignored what sex was really worth.

Andrew was educated in a very different way than I was. He was not a virgin, and though he started the relationship claiming that he didn’t want to “take” my virginity, as the weeks progressed, his claims changed. Soon he began telling me, “If you want to give it to me, I would love you for it.”

As November approached, I decided on Andrew’s Christmas present. I would give him my precious gift of virginity. Little did I know a friend was praying for me. God was about to throw a kink into my plan.

God Had a Different Plan for Me

Darla came into my room Monday morning as I frantically searched for my chemistry homework.

“Wanna go to worship tonight?” she asked hopefully.

I’d gone my entire freshman year. Even as I began to drink and party, I still tried to keep pieces of my old life, serving and loving Jesus. Now the pain of living a lie was too intense. Andrew didn’t know or love God, and our relationship was certainly not pleasing God. I was tired of playing games. I had traded worship for physical pleasure.

“Umm … not sure. I may have plans,” I lied. Andrew had a football gathering with his buddies, and I had almost no homework.

“If you change your mind, let me know,” Darla said.

With a quick “Sure,” I dashed out the door.

The Stirring of the Spirit

Something made me change my mind. My roommate, who’d been living a similar lifestyle, felt compelled to go that night, too.

As the service drew to a close, my roommate leaned over, and with conviction in her voice said, “Something’s got to change.”

I knew she was right, but the weight of giving up the life I’d come to enjoy was a heavy load. She hung around after the service to talk to the pastor. Tears of repentance and regret ran down her face. I sat 10 yards away, stoically considering my options. Part of me felt full. I thought I loved Andrew. I thought he was wonderful. Yet there was a deep part of me that was empty and aching.

The pastor walked over to me after talking to my roommate. “Are you doing OK?” he asked. Such a simple question. Such a loaded answer.

“I’m fine,” I tried to lie.

He stood there.

“OK, I’m not,” I confessed. “There’s something missing. I feel like my life is worthless. But I have everything to live for. Shouldn’t I be happy?”

“Did you give away God for all this happiness?” he asked.

And that was the issue. I’d traded the complete contentment and fulfillment I’d had in my relationship with God for the temporary pleasure of a relationship with Andrew.

And God was immeasurably better to me — and for me — than Andrew had been.

I knew at that moment that the hollowness in my soul was an aching need for God.

Falling Back into the Father’s Arms

That night, instead of feeling guilty and dirty before a holy God, I felt whole and forgiven. All along He had been waiting for me to find happiness in Him, rather than wasting my days drunk, unfulfilled, and compromising my morals. At the same time I realized I was forgiven, I felt the extreme need for my life to change — dramatically.

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